


Choices

by Sunny_Drinks_Soda



Series: Growing Up Sunny AU [1]
Category: OMORI (Video Game)
Genre: AYO THE PIZZA HERE (but we actually get to eat it together lol), Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Everyone Lives/Nobody Dies, Fluff and Angst, Gen, I love them and I'm sad, Looks like I gotta write the fluff myself, Mari Lives AU, What would happen if Sunny and Mari talked it out, so here's some sibling bonding
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-17
Updated: 2021-02-17
Packaged: 2021-03-12 23:34:58
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,192
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29517489
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sunny_Drinks_Soda/pseuds/Sunny_Drinks_Soda
Summary: What if Sunny and Mari had still fought, but instead of it ending in tragedy, Sunny was actually heard?(Mari Lives AU)
Relationships: Mari & Sunny (OMORI)
Series: Growing Up Sunny AU [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2168406
Comments: 41
Kudos: 229
Collections: Quality Fics





	Choices

The sun bloomed like orange and yellow marigolds dotted across countless waves of green — the types of fields you can only ever seem to find during that of the hazy Summer season. Stray cats tucked themselves beneath the glittering flecks of light spotting around the area as if they were a warm, patched up blanket, all while others playfully pawed at the ditzy dandelion fuzzies dancing and twirling to nature’s chimes of breezy whistles and rustled whispers. The sky sung with a flush of flourishing pink streaks, fluffy swirls drifting lazily along with no real direction or care of their potential destination. If you listened closely, you could maybe even hear the faint sounds of laughter from people walking along the quiet afternoon streets, simply enjoying their lives as they sipped away at their fizzy sodas and sugary-sweet lemonades to combat the heat. 

An irritated huff could be heard as socked feet angrily thumped along the wooden floor boards of his home, his hands throbbing and pulsing from pure exhaustion. He didn’t even turn to peek at the soft glow streaming through the room from the surrounding windows, painting the walls with spicks and specks of bright splatters of gold. He ignored the faint scent of pine gracing the air with a subtle haze of comfort, or the way Mewo was spread out on her back in a relaxed mush of fluff. He couldn’t allow himself to even think of such things, seeing as how there was never enough time to enjoy any of them.

Sunny knew that, with the recital being tomorrow, as well as his serious lack of mastery over the notes he was _supposed_ to be playing, there was no way Mari would be happy with him going out and about. She would rather he keep practicing, and when he was done playing his fingers raw, he would, of course, then go on to play some more. If it wasn’t _just right_ , then there was no point in performing at all.

It just wasn’t fair! His whole body screamed from how much it ached all over, not only from the current session he had just stormed away from, but from all the previous ones as well! It was almost constant — he’d wake up — his eyes still half-closed and vision blurred — before mindlessly marching right off to practice. He’d go over to relax and watch television, only to be reminded that his tutor was coming over that morning. He’d maybe spend a few, sparse moments to allow his cramping hands some sort of relief, or perhaps to eat a small snack, only to go back to grabbing at his bow and violin as he was forced to listen to himself mess up yet again. He’d watch as Kel sped through the rooms like an erupting can of the Orange Joe drink he loves so much, loudly giggling as Aubrey growled from her spot on the couch, cheeks red and puffed up like a simmering pot of annoyance. Hero would be trying his best to calm his younger brother down, praying that he didn’t break yet _another_ poor piece of furniture in his euphoric whirlwind of endless energy — or, in some cases, get thrown _into_ said furniture by that of an agitated bow-wearer. Basil would calmly watch from the sidelines, eyes crinkling at the corners and into the shape of little crescent moons towards the scene playing out before him as he hugged at his knees, just happy and content to be there. He’d probably be waiting for another perfect moment to make itself known, camera at the ready when said opportunity wished to be captured. 

He wasn’t there for any of it.

Neither was Mari.

Ever since he was gifted his instrument, he hasn’t had a single solid interaction with his friends that lasted for longer than a few minutes at most. If he was lucky, he’d maybe catch a sad little glimpse of them from inside another room, but it just wasn’t the same. He wanted to completely drop what he was doing — which was failing over and over and _over_ again — and instead listen to Kel create silly voices for the characters in his comic books as he sat alongside him, and listen to Aubrey chatter on and on about her day as her hands flew around in excitement, and cuddle up next to Hero because he was always the most comfortable to sleep on, and to talk with Basil about the flowers he had recently planted as he smiled his shy little grin. He wanted to see them more than anything — more than he wanted to do this stupid recital. Every time he thought that Mari would want to maybe take a break and join with the others — images of pizza covered in gooey cheese and the sounds of rattling swing sets flashing through his mind and making his heart jump with hesitant, yet hopeful bouts of excitement — the weak flickering of such a flame would quickly be pinched out the second he saw her smile her same charming, million-dollar smile as she shook her head from side to side, brows slanted apologetically.

_“I’d love to, but Sunny and I have to practice a bit more! There’s this one note that he’s been struggling with lately, and we want it to be perfect before the big show!”_

She’d say it all with her usual amounts of cheer, almond eyes gleaming with sparkled glee as she most likely imagined the feeling of her fingertips gracefully gliding across the delicate keys, each one harmonizing with one another in a magically crafted symphony. It would be as if she were born to play — and in some ways, he was sure such a grand statement was true, staring on as she controlled her own personal choir. He’d be there too, but instead of grace and precision, he’d only disrupt the chilling, goosebump-inducing atmosphere of hauntingly beautiful music pouring throughout the room. His mistakes would break that perfect bubble she had so carefully formed — the very one encompassing them both — and the only one who could be blamed for such a break in immersion would be himself. She’d look up from her piano, lips pursed and obsidian orbs meeting that of his own. Her expression would say it all, but she’d still try to get out the words anyway.

He always was a bit sensitive.

She always tried to spin things in a more positive direction. 

_“It’s alright, little brother! I know it’s hard, but you’ll get the hang of it eventually. Here, let’s try it again, from the top. We can’t leave until that note is singing with the rest!”_

Sometimes, he wished she’d just say how disappointed she was at his failure to meet her high expectations. It’d be better than having to sit there for hours on end, knowing that the only true way of keeping her attention wasn’t actually working in his — or her — favor. 

Frustrated, he took in a deep gulp of air, letting it out through his nostrils with a flare. It wasn’t often that he got angry — viewing it as too tiring of an emotion — but he just couldn’t help it, his hands unconsciously tightening around the neck of his violin. His fingers cried out as they curled into the strings, still swollen and hurting from practice. Somehow, it only upset him further.

From behind him, he heard as a door quickly opened with a click and shut with a creak, bare feet hurriedly pattering right on his trail. He didn’t want to look, not only knowing who they belonged to, but also already knowing what their owner had to say. 

Mari made her way behind him, the raven locks flowing along her shoulders frizzy and tangled from the settling humidity. She was still dressed in her powder colored nightgown, having practiced from the very moment she awoke that morning. Now that he thought about it, he’s pretty sure they had gotten up even earlier than normal.

He didn’t turn around to look at her, feeling as the fuming swarm of anger dipped and churned into shame and guilt. He didn’t want to make her sad, but he really wanted to take a nap, or maybe draw for a bit. Drawing always helped him calm down when he was stressed. He hasn’t had time to do his usual routines in a long while. 

He could hear the way her foot tapped on the ground with slight impatience, a heavy sigh leaving her as her arms folded over her chest. “Sunny, why did you storm off like that? I know you’re grumpy from waking up really early today, but I promise — we’re almost finished! You’re still a little off on those last notes. Another try and I’m sure you’ll be ready for tomorrow! _Then_ you can rest. How does that sound?”

The grip on his violin tightened. If he were stronger, he’s sure his bow could snap.

His insides twisted and his throat burned with emotion, but he couldn’t seem to uncork the bottle. He just wanted her to be happy, and he missed her _so_ much so often that his heart pricked and bled with how much he loved her, but… he wasn’t like her. All he did was disappoint her, and no matter how much he practiced, no matter how much time he sacrificed — he still wasn’t good enough. Would he ever be enough? What if he never caught up with her? 

Mari didn’t stop, dedicated to her crusade as she took another step forward, clasping her hands together. “I know I’m asking for a lot, but it’s only because I _know_ you can do it, little brother. Don’t you want to show the others how much their gift meant to you?” 

He still didn’t turn around, his cheeks flushing crimson. His blood was boiling and his heart was weeping,

“Sunny,” she said again, her bell-like voice now steady and still with conviction. Mari always got her way, and this argument would not be her first meeting with failure. “I know how you get sometimes, especially when you’re in a mood. But you can’t just give up — not when you’ve improved so much! Do you want to upset the others? They worked so hard to get you that gift. What would they think if you stopped now?”

He wanted to run away from her disappointed tone, sensing the forming frown tarnishing her features. Frowns didn’t look good on Mari — not as much as her smile did.

Mari’s fingers shook the closer she got into a frenzy, quickly steering over to pull at the silky fabric of her dress. She looked down at her feet, the bags underneath her eyes feeling heavier than ever before.

“Please, Sunny. I — no — _we_ need to keep practicing. You don’t want to ruin the show now, do you? Everyone’s going to be watching — Mom, Kel, Aubrey, Hero, Basil — they’re all going to be there to watch us play.” Her words reminded him of what **_he_** used to say, harsh and unforgiving. He didn’t like it, _he didn’t like it._

Her brows held tension and her shoulders stuttered, her eyes blazing with an intensity he couldn’t see. He didn’t want to look.

“You’re really upsetting me, Sunny!” her words rang out, her voice cracked and brittle. “Do you want to disappoint our friends, too? If it's not perfect, then why even go at all? Do you even care?”

He wanted to break his violin into a million chunks of wooden splinters. He wanted to see its once-shining strings spiking up in different directions, trapped beneath a dusted pile of destruction. He wanted the delicately crafted paint along its corners and edges to be chipped and bruised, so he wouldn’t have to be reminded of how much of an expensive _waste_ it was. Anything to erase the disappointment and distance coming from Mari’s voice. He just wanted her to hug him, a hushed hum of a lullaby swimming through his head as his eyes grew heavy. He wanted her to brush her fingers through his hair like she used to, before he was cursed with the fact that, unless he sacrificed more of himself, he’d never stand beside her. He couldn’t keep with the pace, and soon, she’d leave him.

The violin was light as a feather, yet weighed like a boulder in his hands. He didn’t think it possible for his pale skin to turn even paler, but his knuckles said otherwise. It would be so easy to give in, to crash it down into the ground like a wrecked ship victim to the sea, but…

The shame and guilt from before overpowered the split-second spill of red, winning the war and shattering his intrusive train of thought. He almost ruined everything — the gift, their trust, his chance with staying with Mari — it would’ve been taken in a moment, with no way of getting it back.

He’d never see them again — Mari would continue to choose her work over his company, and his friends would leave him behind, betrayed at his horrible actions and total disregard for their gift. It’d all be lost — and, and, _and_ — 

It was all replaced with a large, body-racking shiver as the dam broke with a painful burst, his eyes streaming and lips quivering as his violin and bow fell to the floor with a hollow clack. Sobs clogged his throat and a cold wisp of fear crawled up his back when he turned around, face-to-face with Mari, whose stoney expression and cold gaze was slowly wavering. Watching as tears rolled down his cheeks without any sign of stopping, it quickly transformed into that of regret. She reached out towards him as her other hand flew up to cover at her mouth, eyes wide and sorrowful as his small body shook with an ugly mixture of hiccups and gasps. He felt as if he were drowning, and there was no way to calm down, or to focus, or to persist. He couldn’t breathe, he _couldn’t breathe._

“No, no, no… Oh, Sunny,” she whispered softly to herself, rushing over to catch him as he fell to the ground. He curled into himself with a flinch, turning into a shaking, jittering ball as he pulled at the stray tufts of dark hair atop his head. He looked as if he wanted to disappear altogether. 

“I-I… I’m sorry, M-Mari… Too much, too much…” he cried, rocking himself back and forth in a desperate attempt at soothing himself. Sometimes it worked, sometimes it didn’t, and in this case, it simply wasn’t making him feel any better. Instead, he felt as if he was sinking further into the cloudy depths of panic, the pangs of terror threatening to swallow him whole.

“No, Sunshine... I’m the one who should be sorry.” She sat on the floor and hugged him close, resting his head on her chest as she slowly took his hands into her own, moving his fingers away from the pulled strands of hair he had clawed at. Then, just as slowly, she moved her hand back up and on his head, petting him in what she hoped was a comforting manner. She lightly scratched and stroked at his scalp like she sometimes did with Mewo, watching as his breathing began to steady. Though he was still a sniffling mess — choked sounds tainting the otherwise-silent room — she found herself giving into a pained smile as she felt him melt into a cuddly puddle in her arms, leaning into her warm touch like a touch starved cat. 

When was the last time she had sat with him like this?

“D… Don’t leave me… I’ll get better… P-promise, promise,” his voice strained, turning to bury his face into her shoulder. The tune in her heart played an offkey note at her brother’s pleads, knowing that… she had done this. She was the one to push him too far. She was also the one to say all those horrible things to him, reflecting her own personal pressures back onto him. She didn’t want to be like **_him_** , yet here she was, repeating his past mistakes like a broken record of the past. 

She grimaced at the her of a few minutes ago, fully accepting the wave of shame that hit her right after. She deserved it, seeing the way Sunny clutched at her dress for dear life — as if she would fade away if he let go even for a second. She had been... ignoring him. “I would never leave you, my little Sunshine. No matter what you do, no matter how far away we may be from each other — I could never truly leave you,” she said as she placed her chin on his head. “And.. I-I’m more mad at... myself. I should’ve never said those things to you. You could never disappoint me or our friends — we love you too much. I got a little too crazy and ended up projecting all my worries onto you, and that… that was wrong of me. I never even noticed how much pressure I was placing on you until it was too late…” She paused, guilt clawing at her insides.

“Please forgive me, Sunny.”

Sunny lifted his head from her shoulder, finally looking up at her fully. Her eyes were lost, lacking their familiar spark of life and joy, and it made him even _more_ sad than he already was. This was what he was afraid of — he never wanted her to be sad. Not at him, or herself.

He moved a strand of stringy hair out of her face and away from her eyes, trying his best to give her a small, watery smile. “No… Sad is bad. Like… when you smile.”

Mari stared for a moment, mouth stuck in the shape of an O, right before letting out a teary laugh. She hugged him with a tight squeeze, laughing even more at the quiet little “oof!” noise he made. He was just like a squeaky toy!

“Oh, Sunny... You’re always so worried about listening to others, but maybe.... we need to learn to listen to _you_ more often. You’re your own person, with your own pace and ways of doing things. And maybe… maybe I’m too hard on myself. I can’t help but want everything to always be perfect, but… as long as you and the others are proud of me, maybe it’s perfect enough as it is.”

Sunny nodded his head at that, even looking a little mad at her neglect of self-care. Mari tried not to laugh again at that, his puffy, blotchy face making him look more like an angry kitten more than anything else. 

“Mari…?” She looked back down, urging him on. He seemed shy, and maybe even shameful. Her heartstrings might as well be plucked at this point.

“Am I… good enough?” he asked, his eyes catching sight of the fallen violin across from them. She followed his gaze, somehow sensing that the issue was deeper than he was letting on.

“Sunny, you will always be good enough,” she grinned as her eyes glittered. 

“You already are.” 


End file.
